


Now you're pushing it

by bexwritesoccasionally



Category: Shadow of the Templar - M. Chandler
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, Drunkenness, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 03:07:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12267606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexwritesoccasionally/pseuds/bexwritesoccasionally
Summary: Just Simon and Jeremy being domestic and slightly angst-y.(Semi spoilers for High Fidelity - basically don't read this if you haven't read the books).





	Now you're pushing it

**Author's Note:**

> I just had an urge to write about domestic Simon and Jeremy and it spiraled into this.  
> 6 months to a year after the last extra content: ‘whatever comes naturally’. So about 5/6ish years after high fidelity.

Simon sat at his computer in his house, elbows resting on the desk, face buried in his palms. As much as he would like to say he hated his job; he actually quite liked it. Up until he had to do this _shit:_ the menial, boring reports, which were filed away never to be looked at again. But he’d rather do them now and give himself a free weekend to do… well _whatever_. Whatever wasn’t his job for once.

After deciding he was done for the night, he hit save and started the arduous task of printing the reports off so he could haul them all in on Monday. At the sound of the printer kicking up, he leant back against his chair, stretching. As he yawned, he brought his hands back down to check the time on his watch: _7:23._ As if his body felt the need to remind him, his stomach growled.

Right on cue, a disastrous crash came from the kitchen, quickly followed by an overly calm, “ _shite”._ Simon chuckled to himself and cleared his throat to call out, “Archer? You ‘kay?” Getting no audible response, Simon left his chair to check that Jeremy hadn’t managed to kill himself with a fork.

He leant against the door frame leading into the kitchen and observed Jeremy on his knees, picking up large pieces of smashed plate and dumping them into the bin next to him. “Having an argument with my tableware, Archer?” Simon asked sarcastically.

Jeremy looked up and smiled, “Less of an argument, more of a… disagreement.” He shrugged and Simon scoffed.

“Need some help?” Simon pushed of the wall and began stepping into the kitchen, intending to fetch the dustpan from under the sink.

He barely made it two steps before Jeremy held up his hand to get him to stop. “Feet.” He said, glancing down at Simon’s bare feet.

“Huh?” Simon said confusedly, before the realisation hit him. “Oh. _Don’t worry, mum_. I’ll tread carefully.” Nonetheless, Jeremy still gave him a disapproving look as he edged around the broken pottery.

Fetching the dustpan, he turned back around to kneel next to Jeremy. “ _God_ , you seriously can’t go 5 minutes without making a mess, can you?” He smiled and bumped his shoulder against Jeremy’s before brushing the smashed plates into the pan. When Jeremy failed to respond with a sarcastic remark, he stopped to look at him. “Seriously? Archer?”

“I’ll buy you new plates.” Jeremy offered weakly, before dumped another load of broken plate pieces into the bin with a loud clatter.

Simon’s smile dropped from his face instantly. He dropped the dustpan and grabbed one of Jeremy’s wrists, stopping his hands from picking up any more pieces. “Hey, I don’t care about the plates… Is everything okay?”

The softness in Simon’s voice caught Jeremy’s attention immediately, and he couldn’t even fight back his smile after hearing the concern in the other man’s voice. “I – yeah of course, I’m just distracted – or stressed I guess.”

“Stressed? Why? Did you finally run out of your endless supply of leather jackets?” Jeremy attempted a half hearted scoff, telling Simon that the issue was more serious than Jeremy was letting on.

“I can assure you, you’re not as half as funny as you think you are, Mr Drake.” Simon finished sweeping up the last of the mess, whilst Jeremy stood up and brush off his pyjama trousers. Simon waited patiently for Jeremy to elaborate on what was bothering him, and when he didn’t Simon raised an eyebrow questioningly. Jeremy gave him an overly fake, half-hearted smile before managing, “I’m fine.” Even he must’ve noticed how forced it sounded, and he shook his head slightly before following up with, “Honestly Simon, I’m good. Great. Grand. Just fin-“

Simon interrupted him. “So which one is it? Good? Great? Grand? Fine? Because you’re really not being specific, Archer.”

Jeremy sighed and ran a hand down his face, “It’s just work. Ever since Karpol, I’ve just been paranoid – terrified that he’s going to find me somehow, even though it’s been _years._ And I haven’t done a job as big as this one since – well almost 6 years ago.” Jeremy shook his head slightly. “I’ll manage, Simon, I wouldn’t worry yourself.”

Simon rolled his eyes, “you’re making that kind of hard, Archer. I mean, telling me about a mysterious, dangerous job and not giving me any context. Not to mention the big, bad Russian mafia that could still be on your trail.” (Jeremy visibly winced at that). “Wanna tell me a bit more about this risky job?”

“You know I can’t.”

“Why? Is it because I’m a fed? Scared that I can make one phone call to have you arrested?” Simon put on his biggest shit-eating grins.  “I hate to remind you, but I also happen to be your...” – Jeremy rolled his eyes as Simon failed to finish his sentence - “…which kind of makes you a priority.”

“A _priority_?” Jeremy swooned sarcastically. “A man could almost be flattered.”

“Shut up, Archer.” Simon sighed. “Just promise you’ll tell me as soon as it’s over?”

“Of course I will.”

Simon filled the silence by standing up to brush off his jeans and straighten out his t-shirt, holding the filled dustpan lazily in one hand.

 “Watch out, you probably don’t want to walk around here until I’ve gone over it with the vacuum.” Simon grumbled, gesturing at the floor and dumping the last of the shards into the bin.

Jeremy leant back against the counter and folded his arms, smirking. “Careful Simon, if I didn’t know you better I’d be tempted to say you sound concerned.”

“Of course I’m concerned,” Simon matched Jeremy’s smirk and leant forward against the island counter on his elbows, “you slicing up your foot and having to take you to hospital would be a waste of a weekend.”

“Charming,” the intent in Jeremy’s eyes turned instantly as he looked Simon up and down, slowly dragging his eyes back to Simon’s face. Simon could feel the hairs on the back of neck stand up, the room quiet enough for him to hear himself swallow. When Jeremy next spoke he was practically purring, “Well… if Mr Drake would like to reveal the _activities_ of a fully satisfying weekend, I might be obliged to,” Jeremy paused. “… _Play along.”_

 _Jesus._ Just his voice sent shivers up Simon’s spine and made heat rise in his cheeks. _Fuckin’ Jeremy Archer, man._ Simon slid around the island and came to a stop about a foot away from Jeremy’s chest. “Y-You,” Simon’s voice wavered and Jeremy had to hold back his laugh as Simon cleared his throat. “You and me, cheap beer, _awful_ reality TV, a shitty take-away or two?” Simon reached forward and absently toyed with the toggles on Jeremy’s pyjama trousers. “Making enough noise to annoy the neighbours and potentially have my lease terminated?”

Jeremy smiled and bit his lip, his eyes drifting down to watch Simon’s fingers, Simon being painfully aware of his every move. “I’m intrigued…”

Simon barely had time to think about it before he closed the gap between him and Jeremy and kissed him. With one hand on Jeremy’s waist and the other on the side of his neck, Jeremy had barely any time to react before Simon was pushing him even further up against the counter. Jeremy made a startled noise but was quick to respond, throwing one arm around the back of Simon’s neck and using the other to brace himself against the counter, he kissed Simon back with matched ferocity.

Using the leverage he had from having his hand on the counter, Jeremy pushed up and forced Simon backwards until he was pinning him against the island. Jeremy pulled away to look Simon in the eyes, and placed his hand on the taller man’s chest to stop him when Simon leaned back in to kiss him. Simon started to protest until Jeremy leant in to kiss his neck – making his way slowly down Simon’s torso. As Jeremy landed gracefully on his knees, Simon closed his eyes and let his head fall back.

… _Yeah, this weekend was looking like it would be **fully** satisfying._

 

* * *

 

Around half an hour later, Simon’s hair still wet from the shower and a fresh pair of pyjama trousers on, he entered the kitchen to see Jeremy with his leather jacket on and Simon’s truck keys in his hand. “Going somewhere?” Simon raised an eyebrow.

Jeremy made his way over to Simon and placed his hand on Simon’s bare waist. “I’m going to pick up food. Italian.” He gave Simon a quick peck on the lips. “If I’m not back in 30 minutes you can start worrying.”

He patted Simon’s waist softly, but before he could make it out of the door, Simon grabbed his arm to spin him around. “You aren’t exactly filling me with confidence, Archer. The first time you said that to me you were kidnapped.” Jeremy smiled and Simon pulled him back towards him. “This time watch out for tasers.” Simon smiled before leaning in to kiss him again.

Jeremy turned around to leave and Simon heard the front door shut behind him. Simon made his way over to the living room window to watch Jeremy get in the truck and pull away… _Just in case._ Feeling satisfied, flopped onto the sofa. It sure was quiet without Archer causing chaos every five minutes. He wasn’t sure he liked it. But god forbid Simon would admit out loud he was getting used to (or even _enjoying)_ having Jeremy around more often.

Simon reached for the remote and flicked through the channels until he settled on some shitty game show; which was less about entertaining him and more about passing the time. About 20 minutes into what Simon was considering to be absolute hell, he heard buzzing coming from somewhere in the sofa. He rummaged around under the cushions frantically, until he pulled the phone out and without thinking, he went to accept the call.

“Yo?” Getting no response, he held the phone away from his face.

  * He’d missed the call – and now had a notification saying he had a missed call from Annabelle and a new voicemail.
  * This definitely wasn’t his phone.



_Leaving your phone at home - great way to make me feel good about your safety, Archer._ He stared intently at the voicemail, willing himself not to give in and listen to the it. “No, Drake.” He locked the phone and threw it back down on the sofa. “We draw the line at interfering in personal affairs.” Simon sighed and laughed at himself. “God, I’ve barely been alone for ten minutes and I’m already driving myself insane.”

Simon went back to watching TV for what was barely 5 minutes before the phone was back in his hand. “Ok, so we’ll listen to the voicemail. Nothing more.” But Simon’s toes curled at the thought of invading Jeremy’s privacy as he unlocked the phone. “When he gets back, I’ll be honest. I’ll tell him.” His finger rested above the screen, ready to call the voicemail. He groaned and closed his eyes. “Curiosity killed the cat, Drake.” He said before pressing the call button.

He listened to the dialling tone and the answering machine whilst tugging at his mouth and feeling guilty as hell.

“ _You have one new message – “The_ answering machine began.

 _“_ Yeah, yeah… we get it…” Simon huffed.

 _-received today at 8:16pm.”_ The phone beeped before he heard Annabelle’s voice come out of the phone. “Hey… Mr Elliot has asked that you call him back on his usual number to discuss your plans for tomorrow. He said something about a mix up with the time you’re seeing one of the houses?” That sounded more like a question and Annabelle sighed. “I told him that it’d probably be better for him to discuss it with you. Let me know, though.” She paused before deciding to add, “Have a nice evening.”

Simon’s mind was spinning and he was breathless by the time he locked the phone and threw it back on the sofa. _He wouldn’t… Archer wouldn’t… It’d make no sense for him to buy a house without telling me. Pull yourself together, Drake. It could be a – a business investment, or part of a job._ Simon shook his head and grabbed Jeremy’s phone, deleting the voicemail before he could think about it. “If it doesn’t exist then I couldn’t have listened to it.” Then he tossed the phone away from the sofa and into the armchair.

As if on cue, the front door rattled and opened. “Hey,” Jeremy called. Simon jumped out of his seat and grabbed the remote to turn the TV down.

“Hey,” Simon darted out into the hallway and grabbed one of the bags from Jeremy, following him into the kitchen.

After Simon dumped the bag on the counter, Jeremy started to look through it. “I stopped by the supermarket – grocery store or whatever and picked up some stuff.” He pulled out beer and coffee. “And most importantly… plates.”

Simon took the box from Jeremy and scoffed, “Jeez Archer, these aren’t plates – did you happen to stop by Buckingham palace on your way back and pick up the Queen’s finest china?” Simon grabbed a knife from the knife block and sliced the seal away on the box, pulling out white plates with gold detailing around the edge. He spun the plate around on his finger dangerously. “Wow, these will last 2 seconds in the dishwasher.”

“That’s because – “Jeremy snatched the plate from Simon before he could drop it and placed it on the table, “- you’re not supposed to wash them in the dishwasher.”

Simon made a face at him. “Well where else am I supposed to wash them? Or are they just disposable plates? I’ll throw them out after every use.”

Jeremy side-eyed him, “do you see that thing over there? Yeah the indent in the counters with a hole in the bottom and a big metal rod sticking out of the top?”

Simon feigned surprise and pointed at it.

“Yeah, that thing. That’s called a sink.” Jeremy moved onto the second bag and began pulling out takeaway boxes.

Simon pulled the bottle opener out of a draw and pulled a beer closer to him. “Want one?” He said as he popped the top off the beer he was holding, and offered it to Jeremy. Jeremy looked sceptical but then shrugged and took the beer from Simon, taking a sip – making a slightly disgusted face that made Simon laugh.

 

* * *

 

6 beers, a bottle and a half of wine, 6 double JD and cokes and possibly a couple of tequila shots (forced upon Jeremy by Simon) later – it was safe to say, Simon and Jeremy were tipsy. Well, mostly on Simon’s part, but Jeremy was definitely starting to lose his sophisticated façade.

Simon wiped his mouth and cleared his throat, “you know, Archer, you’re pretty cool”.

Jeremy rolled his eyes, “thank you, Mr Drake.”

“No, no – no!” Simon said a little bit too loudly. “This is where you tell me ‘thank you very much, Mr Drake, but you’re way cooler and more handsome than I’ll ever be’”.

“Sorry, Drake, I’m not a fan of lying.” Jeremy tried to hold back a smile.

“Oh… OH” Simon slid closer to Jeremy on the sofa, “you think you’re funny? Do you?” Simon poked him in the side with his pointing finger, and Jeremy squirmed. “Answer me punk. You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Simon pushed Jeremy backwards, so he slid down to lie on his back. Jeremy giggled – _literally fucking giggled_ – as Simon pushed himself between Jeremy’s legs to loom over the top of him. “Don’t know what you find so funny. As my partner –“

“ _Boyfriend”_ Jeremy corrected him under his breath.

“Ok, as my _boyfriend_ ,” Simon smirked at how shell shocked Jeremy looked and cleared his throat, “well as my boyfriend –“

“ _Long term, been serious for quite some time boyfriend with a good ass?”_ Jeremy interrupted again, his cheeks flushed; possibly from the alcohol or maybe from how soft Simon was being.

“Ok, boyfriend, now you’re pushing it.” Simon lifted a finger up to poke him in the stomach, and Jeremy let out a breathy laugh before squirming under him. “As my boyfriend, it is your responsibility to validate me and make me feel special because I have a fragile masculine ego.”

“But as your boyfriend isn’t it my job to also be completely honest?”

“ _Fuck_ , you’ve got me there.”

Jeremy stretched lazily and wrapped his arms around Simon’s neck, forcing Simon to come slightly closer to his face. “You are the most handsome, hot-headed, intelligent, really not that funny but very hot when angry, gorilla-shouldered man I have ever met.” He paused to smile and look into Simon’s eyes. “Does that work?”

Simon bit his lip, and felt Jeremy’s legs wrap around his back, pulling them closer so Simon could feel the denim of Jeremy’s jeans through the material of his sweatpants. “It’ll do, I guess,” he said before leaning in to kiss Jeremy.

The kiss was slow, messy and slightly heated; Simon could feel Jeremy’s crotch underneath him and had the desire to start something they were both thinking of, but resisted in fear of ruining the _romantic_ moment. Well, up until Jeremy reached down to unbutton his own jeans and then reached down to palm Simon through his sweatpants. Simon pulled away and let out a breathy moan before burying his head into Jeremy’s neck, overwhelmed. Simon felt Jeremy’s hand start to slide underneath his sweatpants whilst his other hand reached up to knot itself in Simon’s hair. Simon placed soft, slow kisses down Jeremy’s neck and –

_Jeremy’s phone rang._

Simon groaned, sliding his hand up Jeremy’s t-shirt “ _leave it,”_ he whispered before pulling from Jeremy’s neck to press another desperate kiss to his lips.

Jeremy was breathing heavily and Simon almost growled at the loss of contact as Jeremy removed his hand. “Leave it,” Simon grumbled, grinding his crotch against Jeremy’s to prove a point.

Simon heard Jeremy’s breath catch and murmur a whisper of his name, and almost thought he’d won before Jeremy pushed his chest gently and cleared his throat. “Simon,” he said again, more seriously.

“ _Fine,”_ Simon sighed, as he sat up giving Jeremy the chance to run over and grab his phone from the armchair where Simon had thrown it, just before it stopped ringing.

“Hello?” Jeremy held his phone between his shoulder and ear whilst he re-buttoned his jeans. Simon pouted at him, reaching for his Jack Daniels and coke whilst Jeremy shook his head. “What do you mean you left me a voicemail?” Jeremy lifted his phone from his ear to check for said voicemail, and Simon instantly flushed with guilt before suddenly becoming very interested in the TV.

“Ok, give me a minute.” Simon heard Jeremy say before he floated and Simon heard the bedroom door shut. _Fuck._

 

* * *

When Simon heard the bedroom door reopen, he closed his eyes; half bracing himself, half hoping Jeremy would think he was asleep.

“Si?” Simon’s eyes snapped open at the nickname, _so much for that plan._

“… Yeah?” Simon said cautiously.

“Did my phone ring whilst I was gone?” Jeremy was still stood by the living room door, leaning against the frame.

Simon considered lying, but then stood up to stand in front of him. He didn’t even have to say a word before Jeremy sighed, “glad we’ve reached the point in our relationship where we have to doubt each other.” He spun on his heel and headed to the kitchen, Simon trailing behind him.

“…It’s not like that,” Simon pleaded. Jeremy didn’t even turn around as he started filling up the sink, and shoving rubbish from around the kitchen into the used takeaway bag, even emptying the ashes from his ashtray bowl – leaving them in cold silence for a few minutes. Simon reached forward to pull on Jeremy’s arm, “Jer, list –“

“You don’t get to use nicknames with me right now to soften me up.” He dropped a mug into the sink harder the necessary, sending bubbles flying up onto the window.

“I’m sorry,” Simon tried again. Jeremy ignored him again. “Archer, _please_ just hear me out.”

“I’m listening. I just hear you coming up with bullshit excuses to waste my time.” Jeremy snapped coldly. “If you don’t trust me, then why am I here?”

Simon flinched. “I do trust yo-“.

“Then why did you feel the _need_ to go through my personal things, despite the fact that I told –“Jeremy was getting angrier and raising his voice.

“ ** _Christ, Archer!_** Would you let me speak?” Jeremy fell silent. “I didn’t check because I thought you were cheating on me – I checked because… I don’t know. I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry. Ok? I’m sorry. I don’t know what I expected when I listened to it, but I didn’t expect _that.”_ Simon ran a hand through his hair hurriedly.

“And what exactly was _that,_ Simon?” Whilst Simon looked defeated, Jeremy still looked _pissed._

“You know… you – you _are buying,_ or at least viewing a house.” Simon bit his lip, the alcohol making him feel light-headed. “I freaked. I’m sorry. I just assumed.”

“Assumed what?”

“Assumed that it was your attempt at trying to get us to live together or… something? I’m just… not ready for that.” Simon knew he sounded like an asshole, but he felt better getting it off his chest.

Jeremy laughed defeatedly, almost sadly. “You’re an idiot, you know that? You haven’t been ready for almost 8 years, Simon! You’re closer to 40 than you are to 30! When _will_ you be ready? I can only put up with this for so much longer. Do you think I’m here all the time to have tea parties and be _bros?_ I fucking love you, Simon. I can see a future with you –“ Jeremy cut off and turned around, putting his hands on the edge of the sink that was full of bubbles, holding back tears.

Simon felt the familiar feeling of guilt in his stomach, “Jer… I’m –“

“Don’t. Just fucking don’t.” Jeremy put his hands in the hot water and started cleaning a mug. A tear left his eye and he immediately got ten times angrier with himself for _giving a shit_. He felt Simon’s hand on his waist and quickly wiped his tear away with the back of his hand, spraying bubbles everywhere.

Simon wrapped his other hand around Jeremy’s waist softly, leaning down slightly to rest his chin on Jeremy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m an asshole.” Simon whispered.

“You are,” Jeremy chuckled half-heartedly. He paused. “It was for us… the house, I mean. I wanted to surprise you. Seems a bit pointless now.”

“I could pretend to act surprised?” Simon felt Jeremy shake his head. “Hey, I said I wasn’t ready, but I think I am – we practically already live together anyway, I’m just scared.”

“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

Simon pulled away and spun Jeremy around by his arm, putting his hands to hold Jeremy’s face between them. “I wouldn’t lie to you. Honesty is part of our jobs as boyfriends, remember?” Jeremy gave Simon a small smile. “I wanna come with you. To see the houses.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Simon leant in to give Jeremy a gentle kiss, but before their lips could touch, Jeremy threw a handful of soap bubbles in Simon’s face and dodged out of his way. Simon wiped the bubbles from his face and Jeremy couldn’t help but laugh as he saw that Simon still had some in his hair. “Oh, you are dead, Archer.” Simon threatened, as he picked up another handful of bubbles from the sink.

 

 

 


End file.
